


Sticky Like Honey

by I_write_fanfiction_not_tragedies



Series: Sweet Like Chocolate [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 2nd person POV, And Sirius is the writer, First War with Voldemort, M/M, Still Magical, Trans Male Character, Trans Remus Lupin, Writer AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 04:52:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11524932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_write_fanfiction_not_tragedies/pseuds/I_write_fanfiction_not_tragedies
Summary: Sticky like honey, sour like lemon, sweet like chocolate. It's weird what can inspire you to write.





	Sticky Like Honey

He slams the door to your flat with a sound that shakes the whole hallway and causes you to finally escape from your prison of half empty mugs and crumpled up pieces of paper. The light in the hallway flickers. He's upset, you can tell, but you don't ask why. You have a guess, but you don't say anything.

You step out of the way and let him pass as he goes from the hallway to the kitchen, worn out and still wearing his scarf. You follow him, three steps behind, and when he gets to the kitchen, you're right there, taking off his scarf and offering him the honey. He smiles, says nothing, and continues searching for a tea kettle. You leave him alone.

Back in the study, your desk is a mess. You've been trying to write this one damn chapter for weeks, but with secret missions and Death Eater attacks, you haven't had much time. There's a deadline looming, but you don't know if it's for your book, or _you_.

All's quiet in the flat. The light in the hallway is out, the light in the kitchen is out, and you're sure it's well past midnight when you finally make it into the bedroom. He's still awake, an empty mug in his hand and a book in the other. The button down shirt from earlier is gone, but he's still wearing his binder.  
"You didn't have to stay awake."  
You say, lifting your shirt over your head as you walk towards the bed. You almost toss it on the ground, but think better of it and toss it into the hamper like he's always nagging you about.  
"Couldn't sleep any way."  
He mumbled, setting down the mug and closing the book. He won't look you in the eye. You sigh, remove your trousers (and socks, he hates it when you forget to take off your socks and they end up stuck in between the bed frame and the mattress) and climb under the covers with him. He shifts his binder uncomfortably.  
"How long have you been wearing that?"  
You ask. He doesn't answer.  
"Remus."  
"Since this morning."  
"You know you're only supposed to wear it for eight hours."  
"Eight to ten."  
He argues.  
"And it's been... Seventeen?"  
He stays silent. You reach over and start to pull it off his shoulder.  
"Wait."  
He says. You stop. He stands up and continues taking the binder off, facing away from you.  
"There are spells that do the same job. They're safer, and easier."  
"They only last a couple hours."  
You swing your legs off the side of the bed. He's still facing away from you. Your wand is on the nightstand, so you grab it and whisper a spell to dim the lights.  
"Maybe we only need a few hours."  
You say, wrapping your arms around him from behind and nonverbally casting the simple transfiguration spell. He turns in your arms and smiles.  
"You don't understand. But you're trying. And I love you for that."  
He leans down and kisses you. His lips are sticky from honey, and he tastes like chocolate tea. Your mind explodes with similes and metaphors and new plans to add to paper, but that will have to wait until morning.


End file.
